Little Witch
Day 6 of Kink-Tober - Praise
Summary: You’re not sure where you wake up or how you should be feeling, but Beck know exactly how you should feel.
(Find What I'm currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Quentin Beck x Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping, drugging, mentions of violent, manipulation, mind control, forced feelings, praise kink (Lmk if I missed any)
Tags: @cellyx33 @shybluebirdninja
Word Count: 2001 (Find my Kink-Tober list here)
P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.
P.P.S. We’re gonna pretend Quentin has actual mind control powers without technology.
You don’t exactly know how it all happened.
One second you were drunk at a halloween party, dressed as a witch, pretending to cast spells on other drunks just to get a laugh out of them. Then the next second, you're strapped to a chair, cold concrete walls surrounding you, and probably the worst headache clouding your head. In this situation, most people would immediately freak out, start squirming and screaming for help or yelling for someone to ask questions, at least that’s what they did in horror movies. But you don’t. Instead, you blink down really hard, it almost felt like a boulder was shoved into your head and was pushing against your skull. It was basically unbearable, with every move of your eyes was a reciprocating feeling of pure agony. Now you’ve had hangovers before, but this was nothing like anything else you’ve experienced. This felt more like someone dropped an anvil on your head after you had run enough marathons to make your legs fall off.
Well.
That might be a bit exaggerated.
You move your body a little, your ass hurting from sitting so long, and you try to scream in pain, but an unnoticed strip of duct tape silences you. Nope, you weren’t exaggerating. You were in genuine bone crushing pain. Even your fucking toes were hurting.
You take another look around the cold room, it felt like you were stuffed in a room sized cooler, all to protect you was your dirt stained witch robe, the sleeves ripped in some places. You didn’t buy it ripped, where did the dirt even come from? Were you in a fight? The thoughts run wildly through your mind, not a single one making sense as you look down at your costume, newly discovered rips and tears found at the bottom of your coat, near where your thighs are. Cuts and bruises visible through the cheap fabric. Maybe you were in a fight. But judging by your current setting, it was more likely a struggle.
Okay, so you were tied to a chair, with an incredibly itchy rope tightened around your sore wrists behind your back. The same rope was used to tie your feet together and around the legs of the chair you were seated on.
So you rule out a majority of situations. You definitely weren’t home, unless you got a basement upgrade to your apartment, and you weren’t at any friends houses, mainly because you didn’t have any friends.
Ouch, self burn.
You chuckle to yourself, your inner monologue tells you to shut up, but a little laughter never hurts. Especially in your current situation. You know, tied up in only God knows whose basement, your entire body set aflame on the inside, and feeling like a boulder fell on only your organs. Fuck. You were in so much pain.
You begin to look around again. There wasn’t much to see. There wasn’t even a door to the fucking room. It was just solid concrete walls, and some annoying dripping sound that you didn’t hear before, it was becoming increasingly annoying.
You try to move again, your kidnapper didn’t exactly give you the most comfortable of chairs. Just a cheap metal one that would numb anyone's ass after about 2 minutes.
Minutes.
How long have you been like this? You wonder. You didn’t smell bad, your clothes still smell like your ‘Pistachio Cloud’ perfume that your ex gifted you before he cheated on you with a slut. Language. You chuckle again, and you lean your head back with your eyes closed, face towards the ceiling.
Where the fuck are you…?
You sit like that for a while, not a single thought running through your head. If you had friends, they’d probably be yelling for help and freaking out by now. You looked lunatic. Calm, collected, and even laughing at the occasional joke you play in your head to make yourself feel better.
You actually start to wonder why the fuck your kidnapper hasn’t come to check on you yet, at least that is until you hear a voice.
You would definitely survive if this was a movie though. You weren’t stupid.
You look back down, letting your entire body go limp again, as if you were dead. But fuck you’d be lying if it didn’t pain your neck to look down.
“You’re still asleep?” A somewhat familiar somewhat not so familiar voice approaches you, his shoes scuffing on the ground in front of you as he stops. “Are you allergic to chloroform maybe? Did I kill you by accident?” His voice is calm as he speaks to your ‘unconscious’ sitting form, a little too calm to not be an absolute maniac. Then you feel cold fingers against your neck, two to be exact. “We still have a pulse. Mind waking up?” He suddenly lightly slaps the side of your head twice, and it makes you open your eyes in pain, and annoyance. Mainly pain. “Oh!” He chuckles, but it’s not so exciting as you look up at him.
At least if you die, the captor was hot as fuck. You chuckle to yourself again.
“You think this is funny?” He asks, more like declares honestly.
You look around the room again, and your eyes squint in confusion. You weren’t surrounded by concrete walls anymore. Instead, you were still tied to a chair, but it was placed in the middle of an open space in a bedroom, but it was still fucking cold.
“Here, I’m sure you have a lot to say. You wouldn’t shut the fuck up last night.” He tells you, still no clear memories coming to your head as he rips the duct tape off your lips, a reflection in the mirror of your face showing a red rectangle of irritation around your lips, along with your leaked mascara.
Well that’s embarrassing. You cried in front of this dude?
“And to think you couldn’t get any hotter.”
“So are you gonna like… kill me? Or something?” Your voice is gravely, you were screaming?
“Not yet.” He chuckles, pushing some of your hair behind your ear, and you notice your witch hat lying on the floor behind him.
“Well that’s nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yea, I mean honestly, I’m surprised I’m not dead already.” You chuckle again, and the vibrations start to hurt your ribs.
“You’re tied up in a strange mans chair and you-”
“Nuh uh-” You cut him off. “A very attractive man's chair. I mean what took you so long to come in here anyways? How long have I been sitting in this chair?”
“Two days. And sorry, but you wouldn’t wake up. Apparently you’re sensitive to chloroform.”
“Two days?” You tilt your head in surprise. “Did you at least save me some halloween candy?”
“Where did I put my tape…?” He asks himself, then begins searching through some drawers.
“Wow, you forgot about me, and your tape?”
“Shut up. I didn’t come check on you cause you were waking up. I was waiting for you to start screaming.” He admits, continuing to look for his precious tape.
“Why would I automatically start screaming?”
“That’s what they do in movies.”
“This ain’t a movie bud.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Wait, are you implying you’re new to this?” He stops searching and looks back at you. “Hahaa, that’s funny. Do you even know how to tie ropes?”
“I’m new to the sex slave part, not the kidnapping part.” The smile drops from your face.
You weren’t sure why you didn’t think of it before. At least he’s hot. You chuckle again. Fuck. You couldn’t just stay in one mood for five minutes.
“Why is this so funny to you?”
“Oh it’s not. I’m just in so much pain, I can’t decide whether to care or not anymore. I mean you’re the most affection I’ve gotten since I turned 8.” You laugh at yourself. “Honestly, thank you for being so nice. I mean, you chose me? Out of however many billion people there are?”
He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at you, still strapped to the chair before taking a deep breath. If there was an ocean nearby, you were sure he would’ve devoured every last sea turtle. Now that would be a disaster. You chuckle again. Fuck.
“Okay, let's see if you’re laughing after I’m done with you.” He swooshes his hand, and the two ropes that were keeping you still quickly disappear from your body. “Stand up.” You try to listen, slowly attempting to bring yourself to your feet, but the pain is enough to make you want to crash down to the floor and take a thirty year nap. “Come on, if you’re well enough to be making jokes and laughing, I’m sure you can take two steps forward.” You wobble, only listening cause the absolute brute of a man standing in front of you could fold you in seconds.
Still though, your movements felt forced.
Like you weren’t in control of your legs. Naturally the pain would’ve been enough to make you stop, tears running down your face but you don’t even trip as you make your way to stand directly in front of him, and his hands reach out to cup your face.
“You feeling dizzy?” His voice is deeper, not as comforting as before. If you were a dog your ears would’ve been pinned to the back of your head in fear. The sudden mood change making you back down from him, along with your ears, your tail would be tucked between your legs, you wanted to run.
And yes, you felt dizzy.
“How about now…?” He takes a step closer to you, and you close your eyes, groaning tiredly. “Feeling a little… tired?” He whispers against your ear, you expect goosebumps to run down your skin, but there’s nothing.
“Feeling a little warm?” His hands ghost over your costume, the feeling of his skin touching yours makes you shake, and yet you felt as if you were on fire, you entire body made you feel like you could just melt into a puddle and be stepped on like rain. “How about cold?” Then you were freezing, your teeth literally chattering as a cold mist comes from your warm breath.
What the fuck was going on?
Then you felt…
Warm, comfortable, and… really fucking horny.
A random, almost misplaced moan emits from your throat as you involuntarily lean into him, and his hands find your waist before trailing down your body, pulling your dress up above your hips, revealing the black lace panties you had worn to ‘match the witchy vibe.’
“What the fuck are you doing to me…?” You whine. Every emotion and feeling was almost forced.
“Just a bit of mind manipulation…” He tells you, holding your head and turning it as if to inspect your scalp.
You felt hot and sweaty, but also cold and dry. He was manipulating your senses.
“How does this feel?” Another moan leaves your mouth. It was honestly embarrassing. But you couldn’t help it, the feeling of arousal was overbearingly painful, and you could only instinctively collapse against his chest, non-verbally begging him to stop. “Shhh… you’re okay.” He whispers against your ear, another wave of arousal coursing through you.
“P-please…” You moan, your hips rocking against his as they seek some sort of pleasure or relief, and your eyes rolled like a crazy woman’s in your skull.
“You’re okay…” He tells you, gently pushing your panties aside. “You’re doing perfect my little witch.” “You moan louder, the feeling of him shoving two of his fingers into was enough to turn you on even more.
“Doing so good for me…” He groans.
“Perfect little witch.”
“Fuck… you’re amazing.”
Praise after praise, all fallen unto deaf ears, the body of your hearing practically plagued by pleasure.
“Fucking perfect… knew you were the right choice… walking around in your slutty little dress all drunk… so glad I chose you… My Μικρή μάγισσα…”
